


Limited Options

by RikkuRiddle



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, off-screen suicide of minor character before story (no details)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuRiddle/pseuds/RikkuRiddle
Summary: President Shinra is not a good father, not by a long shot. When things between father and son are about to escalate, Rufus gets help from an unexpected ally.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 22
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna level with you all here. xD I just wanted to write beat-up Rufus and this turned into a bit of a darker fic than anticipated (how did I not anticipate this though...). There will be a semi-happy end to this story or rather it'll end on a hopeful note that things are improving and daddy Shinra gets what he deserves. A sad end would just kill me. 
> 
> Oh, and Rufus and Tseng are about 23 years old. Don't think I ever explicitely mention that anywhere in the story. 
> 
> If I missed any important tags/tw, please let me know and I'll gladly add them. 
> 
> My thanks goes out to Nemi_Almasy for effectively betaing this story! Your encouragement was lovely and thanks for taking the time! <3

Tseng stepped into Veld's office.

Being called at this time of night could only mean one thing and Veld's grim expression confirmed his suspicion.

“Again, sir?”

“Go and try to intervene as unobtrusively as possible.”

He nodded and left, his heels clicking on the polished floor of the deserted hallway.

This was the third time in under a month.

Once he reached the President's office, he knocked, not really expecting an answer. When none came, he slipped into the office quietly to find the place in some disorder.

The President stood by his desk, leaning heavily on it with one arm. Blood was running down the side of his face. On the floor next to him lay a bloody paper weight.

Tseng froze, his eyes straying to the other person in the room.

Rufus Shinra.

The President’s son.

He stood quite some ways away from his father, breathing heavily, his clothes and hair in disarray. He had a split lip and bloody nose but from the looks of it didn’t seem to care about his injuries. His pale blue eyes were trained on the President and full of hatred.

That beautiful fool.

Even with his face so beaten up, his looks were unreal.

“This time…” the President ground out, half shaking with suppressed fury. “You’ve gone too far. You and your whore mother. I'll kill you.”

Rufus looked nothing like his father. The almost white blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fine features were all inherited from his mother, who had committed suicide two years ago. Tseng had surmised that therein lay some if not all of the antipathy between father and son.

“Sir,” Tseng tried carefully, his words were directed at the President who didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

“I'll beat that insolence out of you.Every last bit of it.” The President swayed on his feet, the blood from his temple seeping into the crisp white collar of his shirt. “And stop looking at me with her damn eyes!”

Rufus barked a cold laugh. “Shouldn’t you be used to the look, old man? She never looked at you with anything but disgust.” He was worryingly pale which really came as no surprise seeing as their last altercation had been hardly a week ago and he’d almost had to carry Rufus back to his apartment then.

The President pushed away from the desk, lurching towards Rufus. He never would’ve made it all the way if Rufus hadn’t closed the distance between them in two long strides, lunging at his father who caught his wrist and backhanded him so hard that Rufus nearly fell.

Stumbling sideways, he managed to steady himself at the last moment, the side of his face that his father had struck reddening.

Tseng took a deep breath. He hated having to watch this over and over and over again.

_As unobtrusively as possible, my ass. How about you break this up next time, Veld._

Rufus touched his cheek, grimacing. “You’re really getting old.”

_Stop antagonising, dammit._

The President was swaying dangerously, either from the blood loss or the hit to the head. Had Rufus really struck him with the paper weight? He could’ve killed the President but Tseng supposed that that had very likely been the idea.

Despite how unsteady he was, the President made his way slowly over to were Rufus stood.

Clenching and unclenching his hands, Tseng took a step towards them. “Sir, you should sit down,” he addressed the President. “I'll call a medic.”

The President turned around and looked at him for the first time. For a moment, Tseng thought he’d throw him out and then gods help Rufus. But then he seemed to shake himself, jaw clenching.

“Get him out of here,” he spat and there was no mistaking who he meant. “Lock him in his apartment. I don’t want to see that wretched face in the foreseeable future.”

Wonderful.

“As you say, sir.” Before doing as he was told, Tseng did call a medic. Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he approached Rufus slowly. “I'll take you to your apartment.”

Strictly speaking he had to address Rufus properly too but in the President’s presence this would’ve only been another cause for outrage. So he dropped the title, no matter how much it bothered him.

The look Rufus threw him was nothing short of venomous. “What a good dog you are.”

_Just do as you’re told._

Tseng stopped a few feet away from Rufus. The last time, he’d had to drag Rufus to his apartment. More abuse on top of what his father had meted out already. If it could be avoided this time around, he’d very much prefer it.

“If you don’t remove my son from this office right this instance, I’ll drag him out myself!”

Clenching his jaw, Tseng tried not to be unnerved by the President’s angry voice at his back. He had made a point of positioning himself in such a way that he stood directly between the two.

When it didn’t look like Rufus would be leaving voluntarily, Tseng reached for his arm, only to have his hand slapped away almost immediately.

“Get your hands off me. That the same hand you jerk my father off with?”

“That’s enough!” The President roared, pushing Tseng aside with what must’ve been the last of his strength as he toppled but still managed to get a hold of Rufus and both of them went down.

_Shit._

Rufus let out a pained curse as he hit the ground, his father – who wasn’t a particularly light person – landing half on top of him.

Tseng was at their side only a second later but still too late because the President’s hands were already at his son’s throat.

This was madness.

He couldn’t assault the President but if he didn’t do anything, he’d kill his son.

The President’s face turned purple from exertion and he was starting to tremble all over and yet his grip on Rufus’ throat didn’t waver. “You little piece of shit - you’ve tried my patience for long enough.”

Rufus was trying to pry his father’s hands away to no avail, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

Tseng was about to push the President off his son when Rufus reached up and pressed his thumb into his father’s eye who jerked back with a hoarse shout before rolling off Rufus.

Before either of them could decide on their next course of action, Tseng had grabbed Rufus by one arm and jerked him upright, pulling him to his feet and bringing some distance between them and the President.

A moment later the medics stepped into the office, faltering by the door but still providing enough distraction to finally end this insanity.

Rufus was still gasping for air, one hand at his throat, his eyes never leaving his father.

_He really would’ve killed his son_ , Tseng thought with a sickening feeling.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” Pulling Rufus along as gently as he could, they left the President’s office with Rufus only struggling half-heartedly against Tseng’s hold on him.

Once they were alone in the hallway, Tseng let go of him.

“That gutless bastard.”

There were already bruises forming on Rufus’ pale throat.

Tseng sighed inwardly. Next time Veld tried to send him to clean up this bloody mess, he could do it his damn self. He was so tired of seeing father and son at each others throats, quite literally.

“Let’s go to your apartment.”

“I can find the way myself. Piss off.” Rufus straightened back up and pushed the hair out of his face.

“I have orders to take you to your apartment,” Tseng said as calmly as possible.

Rufus glared at him with such disgust, Tseng felt very tempted to just walk off and leave him to it. The problem was that if left to his own devices, Rufus might even go back into the President’s office and the person who would be in trouble when that happened, would be him and not Rufus.

“You going to take me there by force, like last time?” Rufus spat.

Forcing himself to keep his face blank, Tseng said a little mechanically. “If I have to.”

To his great relief, Rufus only scoffed and strode off in the direction of his apartment with Tseng following a few steps behind.

“I hope he loses the damn eye,” Rufus muttered under his breath.

Tseng studied the president’s son. The relationship between father and son had always been a difficult one but after Mrs Shinra’s death the thing had completely come off its hinges.

At this point Tseng didn’t even know if Rufus was still in the will. He didn’t understand why the President didn’t ship his son off to one of his many mansions across the world and just keep him there. Maybe it was some strange love-hate-relationship that he couldn’t begin to understand. It certainly seemed more destructive than anything else.

Tseng’s eyes trailed to Rufus’ left arm.

The first time he’d been ordered to diffuse one of their fights, he’d entered the office only to discover that the President had broken Rufus’ left arm. He’d been so shocked, he’d been tempted to call Veld.

Why had the man thought he was the right person for this task?

Because Rufus and him were the same age and might have something in common? If that had been Veld’s reasoning it couldn’t have been further from the truth. They had absolutely nothing in common.

“If I might make a suggestion?”

“No can do.”

Why did he even bother? Tseng sighed inwardly.

They were in the middle of one of the countless hallways that ran through HQ like veins through a body when Rufus suddenly stopped and turned around.

_Oh no._

But instead of doing anything, he just stood there and looked at Tseng, who tried not to tense under the scrutiny. Was Rufus thinking of picking a fight with him to get back to his father after all? They had been through this, Rufus knew he wouldn’t be able to overpower him.

Which didn’t necessarily have to mean that he wouldn’t try again.

“You talked my mother out of one of her suicide attempts.”

For a moment, Tseng was so shocked by the sudden change in topic that he struggled to understand the meaning of Rufus’ words. When it finally sunk in, he didn’t know what to say.

He’d intervened in so many of the fights between father and son without Rufus ever bringing this up. Truth be told, he hadn’t been aware that Rufus even knew about it.

There had been nobody but him and Mrs Shinra on her balcony that day. He couldn’t even call it a stroke of luck that he’d been there because if he knew one thing, he never wanted to have to talk anybody out of killing themselves ever again.

She had been so beautiful and so sad.

“She told me about you,” Rufus said, interrupting Tseng’s trip down memory lane. “The young Turk who’d sat with her for hours until she went back inside.” He gave a humourless laugh, scrutinizing Tseng a moment longer. “Was that really you?”

Tseng struggled to swallow with how dry his mouth suddenly was. “It was.”

“You never said anything.”

“Why would I?” Tseng said, genuinely confused. “I didn’t even know you knew.”

And in the end it didn’t matter anyway.

“Besides, why would you believe one of your father’s lapdogs,” he wasn’t sure if he quite managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Rufus huffed a laugh. “Well, you’re not wrong. If she hadn’t told me, I probably wouldn’t have believed you.” Shaking his head, he turned away and they continued on their way to Rufus’ apartment.

Tseng felt drained and tired.

When they reached the apartment, Tseng had the next bitter pill to swallow.

“I’ll have to lock you in.”

Rufus just looked at him and somehow that was worse than any insult he could’ve hurled at him.

“You know.” Why was he talking? He should be keeping his mouth shut. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to accomplish anything, but antagonising your father the way you do is only going to make things worse for you.”

Rufus scowled. “I don’t care. I want to kill him.”

“By beating him to death?”

Rufus’ expression darkened further.

“I’m not pretending to understand your situation,” Tseng added quietly. “I...”

What was he going to say?

That he was sick and tired of having to drag Rufus out of his father’s office, more or less alive? That he hated having to look on while the President beat his son black and blue? It didn’t matter that Rufus could defend himself somewhat, that he sometimes even gave as good as he got. In the end there was no winning against his father because he was the President. Short of killing him, there would be no end to this.

And Tseng couldn’t bear looking at the fresh cuts and bruises when the old ones had barely healed.

Having to stand there while the President had almost choked Rufus to death still made his stomach turn. But what was he to do? He was just a small employee and it wasn’t Rufus who was his boss but the President. One misstep and he might be saving Rufus’ life but ending his own.

“If you continue in this vein, I might not get a chance to save you from your father next time.”

Rufus narrowed his eyes slightly. Half his face was still reddened from where the President had struck him. His split lip was swollen and for the first time, Tseng noticed the cut on his eyebrow.

That beautiful fool, indeed.

“And why do you care?”

Tseng sighed. “I might work for your father but I still know what sympathy is, even if your father doesn’t.”

“So you pity me.”

“Sure. Or maybe I’m just being selfish when I say that I don’t want to drag your dead body out of the President’s office. Because I hate clean-up jobs.” Tseng shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. Why had he even bothered?

Rufus huffed an incredulous laugh, only to wince a little when one of his many cuts reopened. “Aren’t you an asshole.”

“Well, I’ve been called worse. Mostly by you though and that’s saying something, considering my usual line of work.”

Rufus scrutinised him again. “You’re a Turk.”

“I am.”

“Who’s your superior?”

_Curious to know who you’ll have to complain to?_ “Veld and above that Heidegger.”

Rufus made a face at the latter name. “So Veld’s heading the Turks?”

“He is.” _Why?_

“What kind of man is he?”

_A good one._ “He’s a competent leader. Cares about his subordinates.”

“So he is the one who always sends you in to break up our little squabbles.”

Tseng nodded.

“Do you know why?”

“I never asked.”

Rufus scoffed. “A good dog never thinks for himself, huh?”

It took some effort not to scowl. “Sure, I’m usually too busy jerking your father off anyway.”

At that Rufus actually laughed. It lit up his whole face, draining away the tension, anger and pain that before had seemed to be edged into his features. He looked nothing like his father.

_He’s so handsome_ , Tseng thought regretfully and maybe even a little guiltily.

“You know...” Rufus pursed his lips. “I really don’t know what to make of you.”

“Really? I thought you’d had your mind quite made up.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I was wrong.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Nemi_Almasy for sorting out my messy punctuation and for her lovely feedback! <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

Tseng looked at the unconscious figure in the bed.

His eyes traveled over the thick bandage that was wrapped around Rufus’ head, the dark purple bruise on his left cheek, maybe the skin was chafed too but it was difficult to tell with the deep discolouring. The split and swollen lower lip and the cut on his chin finished the picture off.

Stretched out on his bed, Rufus arms lay on top of the blanket, one of which was covered entirely in bandages, the abrasions on his fingers an angry red.

Short of missing limbs or other extremities, Tseng was sure he’d tick about every other injury in the books if he were to make a list.

Apparently Rufus had run into some lowlifes in Sector 6 that very same evening. Or so the official story went but Tseng knew better.

/Check in on him./

Veld’s words were still echoing in his head.

Why? Why was it always him who got sent to Rufus? What was the purpose of this entire exercise? To confirm to Veld that yes, it was exactly as bad as the reports had suggested, maybe even worse and yes, we already know that this was no bloody bad luck on Rufus’ part.

After he’d locked Rufus in his apartment only three days ago, he’d somehow escaped this morning, for what purpose nobody knew, but Veld was backing Tseng up on the fact that he had indeed locked the door. Most of the staff that had come and gone from Rufus’ apartment the previous days could confirm the door having been locked as well.

Tseng sat down on the armchair by the bed, propped his elbows up on his knees and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Was nobody going to do anything about this?

Everyone knew this hadn’t just been an unfortunate accident. Of course, the official paperwork read differently but even the cleaning staff seemed to know that the President had set this whole thing up in revenge.

The President hadn’t lost his eye but he was running around with an eyepatch now, which would’ve been funny if he weren’t currently looking at the price Rufus had to pay for it.

Tseng remembered director Tuesti coming out of Veld’s office before he’d gone in today. Those two were close and from what dealings he’d had with the director, Tseng thought the man was the only sane person on the board of directors, which incidentally made him question how the man had remained in his position for so long.

“You’re not crying are you?”

Tseng jumped and looked up, only to find Rufus, head turned towards him and eyebrows raised, watching him.

“No.”

Rufus cracked a smile that made him wince. “Looks like I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What bad luck.”

Tseng frowned at him. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Rufus pressed his lips into a thin line and looked up at the ceiling. “No.”

Due to his own work, Tseng could picture quite vividly how the event in Sector 6 must’ve gone down. Though he wished he couldn’t. The Turks hadn’t been involved. Instead the President had hired somebody through Heidegger who seemed to share the President’s distaste for his son.

Strictly speaking, they shouldn’t have this information but Veld had accessed the corresponding files, not that there were many, and had shown them to Tseng. It wasn’t much but if push came to shove it would be enough to follow the trail. Most of the planning must’ve happened orally but neither Heidegger nor the President were particularly clandestine people.

It didn’t matter what they could prove though. There was no holding the President responsible.

“Why are you here then?”

“Veld sent me.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t question his order.” Maybe he should start doing it.

Rufus chuckled. “Right, I forgot you don’t know how to ask questions.”

Tseng thought about leaving. He didn’t know what he was doing here in the first place. Maybe he really should ask Veld some questions. It felt wrong to question his superior but perhaps he could go about it in some way that made it sound as if he was only trying to improve his work? If Tseng knew what Veld’s intentions were, he could probe for whatever it was.

“Perhaps I should take everyone’s advice and stop fighting my father,” Rufus said more to himself than to Tseng.

Where had that change of mind come from?

“You know, my face is the last thing I have of her.” Rufus was frowning at the ceiling. There was a tension around his eyes that made Tseng suspect that he was trying not to cry. “If I keep this up, even that will be gone.”

Tseng had to look away, his stomach clenching painfully.

“You know my father had all of her things destroyed before I could keep anything?”

No, he didn’t know that. Tseng shook his head mutely, not knowing what to say. All he could do was sit here and listen to this. Like all he could do was watch when the President beat up his son.

Maybe his own impotence should make him angry but what would that achieve? So instead he just wanted to walk away, try and ignore what was happening. Wasn’t that what everyone else did?

Tseng got to his feet, hating himself as he said, “I need to get back to Veld.”

Rufus nodded without looking at him.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Tseng had been standing in front of Veld’s office for the past few minutes, trying to muster enough courage to question his superior’s orders without actually questioning them.

Veld was a good boss but he was also strict and unforgiving when it came to failures. There was no telling how he would react to Tseng’s inquiry.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, the reply to enter following only seconds later.

Tseng stepped into the office quietly and approached the desk before waiting for Veld to finish whatever he was typing.

“What is it?” Veld looked up from the screen.

“Sir, I was wondering what we are going to do about the… ongoing conflict between the President and his son.”

Veld raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. “What we are going to do? I don’t see how there is anything we could do. Unless…” He frowned at Tseng. “The President has approached you about a permanent solution?”

“Sir, I- No. _What_?”

A permanent solution? What the hell was he talking about?

Veld relaxed visibly. “Oh, good. After the latest developments I have grown a little concerned.”

A little? Tseng bit back a snort.

“Though it would’ve greatly surprised me if the President hadn’t talked to me about it first.” Resting his elbows on the desk, Veld steepled his fingers in front of his face, eyeing Tseng. “Why do you think we are going to do anything?”

Tseng clenched his hands where he had folded them behind his back. “I’m not thinking that. It’s just… I’m not sure why you sent me to check in on the President’s son today.”

Well, the subtlety had gone right out the window.

“To assess the situation, of course.”

“But it’s all in the files.” If this wasn’t questioning his orders than he didn’t know what was. Gods, what exactly was he getting himself in trouble for? Maybe he should apologise and leave. This had been a terrible idea.

A small smile tugged at Veld’s lips. “What are you saying, Tseng? That I gave you nonsensical orders?”

“No, sir. I was just-“

“Questioning my orders?”

“Of course not, sir. I- I apologise. I meant no offence. Please forget-“

“No.” Veld rose and Tseng nearly took a step back. “I expected as much.” He walked around the desk and sat on its edge. Instead of saying anything else, however, Veld reached behind himself and took a folded up note, holding it out to Tseng. “Let me be very clear, I won’t tolerate you questioning commands ever again. Those are your new orders.”

When Tseng made to unfold the paper with rising trepidation, Veld held up his hand.

“Review this in your own room, I have no time to discuss this with you further. You will find everything you need to know inside.”

Tseng barely trusted himself to speak. It didn’t sound like he was getting fired but for anything - beyond that he hardly dared to hope. “I understand, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Bowing slightly, he left the room, his fingers clutching at the paper a little too hard as he walked to his room as if in a haze, trying to turn the worst possibilities of what the note might contain over in his head. If this had been the termination of his contract, he wouldn’t be walking back to his room. Was he being demoted? Veld had expected him to question his orders?

Tseng closed the door to his room behind himself and leaned against it, staring at the paper in his hands. Should he have expected such a reaction from Veld?

As far as he was aware he’d completed every task entrusted to him to Veld’s satisfaction. Up until today that was. So why…?

Crouching down, Tseng unfolded the paper with trembling fingers.

There was a red note written in Veld’s neat handwriting on the top right corner that read ‘Destroy immediately upon reading’.

_What the-_

His eyes trailed lower and for the next few minutes he found himself perusing the almost miniscule font with mounting disbelief. There was so much information crammed onto a single page, partly in shorthand, partly with regular abbreviations, Tseng couldn’t even begin to fathom how long somebody had worked on compiling all this in such a concise manner.

When he was done, he re-read the paper several more times before going into the bathroom and placing the page into the sink as he turned the tab on. They were forbidden to smoke in their rooms, so any kind of fire would’ve triggered the alarm. Besides, he didn’t carry a lighter anyway.

Once the paper was completely soaked and all the writing unrecognizable, he flushed it down the toilet and returned to his room, sitting down on the bed heavily.

Well, it didn’t look like Veld was questioning his abilities.

\-------------------------------------------------

Tseng pressed his key card against the scanner to Rufus’ apartment and the door opened with a quiet buzz. It was early in the morning and the hallways were still mostly deserted.

Stepping into the apartment, Tseng froze at the sound of… crying?

Part of him wanted to hurry on, to see what was wrong, the other part was rooted to spot, his feet suddenly feeling like lead.

The sound stopped abruptly.

“Who the hell is this?”

Steeling himself, Tseng walked on, vaguely apprehensive at what he might find but when he rounded the corner, he saw Rufus standing by the window, scowling at him. If he hadn’t heard the crying, he doubted he would’ve noticed anything and for a moment he even questioned if he’d maybe misheard.

The long-sleeved shirt Rufus was wearing hid most of the bandaging around his arm, the rest had remained markedly unchanged since he’d last seen him the day before. He was still pale, the shadows under his eyes along with his countless injuries exacerbating the look.

Tseng noticed the untouched food on the table.

“What do you want?” Rufus left his spot at the window and maybe nobody else would’ve picked up on it but he seemed to favour his right leg. He stopped a few paces away from Tseng. “Swallowed your tongue?”

Tseng sighed. “No. I’m here on orders.”

A humourless smile tugged at Rufus’ lips. “Great. Well, you’ve seen me. Still here. Time to report back.” He turned away from Tseng and walked over to the table, grabbing a glass of water.

“I’ll help you.”

Rufus threw a glance over his shoulder, frown tugging at his brows. “I can walk alone just fine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Taking a sip of water, Rufus put the glass back down with more force than necessary. “Then what _do_ you mean. Do you only speak in monosyllables?”

“With your father. Well… against your father.”

Rufus turned back to him slowly, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about shielding you from your father as much as that’s possible and helping you undermine him until we have the chance to dispose of him.”

Rufus’ eyes strayed to the apartment door and back to Tseng. “Is this some sort of trick? Look, if my father wants me dead so badly, how about you quit the mindfuck and just shoot me. You’re a Turk, that’s the sort of thing you do, isn’t it?”

Well, Tseng couldn’t say the suspicion surprised him. He would be suspicious too in Rufus’ stead. It just didn’t make his job easier. But somehow Veld had trusted him with this.

“I’m not trying to trick you.”

Rufus scoffed.

“I can’t force you to believe me right now but hear me out.”

Rufus’ face hardened as he eyed Tseng coldly. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants, he leaned back against the table. “I don’t know why I’m even listening to this. Spit it out then.”

“Veld and director Tuesti want to help you-”

“Reeve?” There was a flicker of uncertainty in Rufus’ eyes.

Tseng had seen Rufus and the director together on multiple occasions in the past. They had seemed to get along quite well, though it had been apparent that the director couldn’t be too overt about it lest he arouse the President’s suspicion, who would have the Turks look into anyone who got too close to his son.

“There’s obviously no way to simply kill the President.” He couldn’t believe he was saying this and despite knowing that there were no cameras or bugs in Rufus’ apartment, he felt uncomfortable talking about such a sensitive topic at HQ. Plotting against the President right under his nose.

Before Tseng could go on, Rufus pushed off the table and closed the distance between them. He stood a little too close for Tseng’s liking but he made an effort not to step back as Rufus scrutinized him.

“Are you lying to me?”

“I’m not.”

“And you just expect me to believe that, do you? Countless times you drag me from my father’s office and jump at every little twitch of his finger and now you come waltzing in here, telling me Reeve and Veld want to help me? What for? Reeve might not like my father but his position is secure. As is Veld’s, I’m assuming. What do they gain by sticking their necks out for me?”

Tseng had no answer to any of these questions because he didn’t know himself. He wanted to believe that they didn’t want to stand by any longer and watch the President kill his own son sooner or later but he knew that Rufus wouldn’t believe such an explanation, especially when Tseng didn’t even know if it was true.

“This is exactly the sort of thing my father would pull. Is beating me up not good enough for him anymore?”

Tseng frowned and couldn’t help feeling a little foolish. How had Veld thought this would go? Was this a contingency he’d planned for? Keep him safe until he trusts you?

“I have no way of proving to you that what I said is true. So I understand if you don’t believe me. Maybe we should… drop the topic for now.” Maybe some more instructions on Veld’s part would’ve been helpful, he really didn’t know Rufus all that well to anticipate how he’d react and truth be told, he’d been lying awake half the night, wondering how to broach the subject with Rufus and being unable to come up with a perfect solution. It seemed there simply was none.

“Sure, you can try lying to me again at a later date, dunno how well it’ll go then.”

Rufus was about to turn away, when Tseng said, “I’m your personal bodyguard for the foreseeable future.”

“You mean my father’s spy.”

“You may choose to believe what you want,” Tseng said quietly.

“Oh, may I? What a relief.” Rufus gave him a shove. “I don’t want you here. Get out.”

Biting his tongue, Tseng took a step back. “I have ord-”

Another shove with more force. “Fuck your orders! Get out! Now!”

When Tseng didn’t move, Rufus made to push him again but Tseng caught his wrist. “Please stop.”

“Or what? You’ll beat me up?”

Tseng could taste bile at the back of his throat. Letting go of Rufus, he took another step back. “No.”

“No? And are you going to defend yourself?”

_Please don’t._

There wasn’t much strength behind Rufus’ lunge and Tseng caught his wrist again. They grappled for a moment or two until Tseng was backed up against the wall. With the state Rufus was in, he was hardly any danger at all and Tseng fought off his hits easily enough.

“Please, calm down.” Tseng held onto Rufus’ wrists as carefully as he could.

Clenching his jaw, Rufus turned his head away. “You know what this place is? A damn prison.”

Slowly, Tseng let him go but Rufus didn’t move.

He stood there, shoulders pulled up and looking at the sprawling city of Midgar outside of HQ but Tseng doubted he saw any of it if the haunted expression in his eyes was anything to go by.

If there had been some colour in Rufus’ face before, it had drained away. Even his lips were almost white.

Tseng wanted to say something but he didn’t know what. Hesitantly he reached out and touched Rufus’ shoulder who flinched away, staring at Tseng.

“Why are you still here? I told you to get out.”

“I want to help you.” His words sounded so foolish and meaningless even to his own ears.

“You can’t. Even if what you said is true, nobody can help me.”

“Maybe not today.” Tseng realised he didn’t care what he said, he just wanted to get through to Rufus enough that he would stop trying to throw him out. That there was maybe a flicker of a chance that Rufus would believe him some day.

Balling his fists, Rufus pushed against Tseng’s chest but there was no force behind it. He leaned his forehead against his fists as he started shaking. “I told you to get out.”

When Tseng realised that Rufus was crying, he reached out without thinking and wrapped his arms around him, praying that Rufus wouldn’t push him away again and he didn’t.

He listened to the choked sounds in silence, eyes raised to the ceiling and tightening his embrace when the stifled sobs made Rufus tremble all over. Tseng thought someone was reaching into his chest and twisting his heart.

He couldn’t even say if knowing that he didn’t have to be a helpless bystander anymore made him feel better. There was still a chance that their plan wouldn’t work but at least now he could try and help Rufus. If there was something he could do, he would.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand done. 
> 
> Writing a younger Tseng was a lot of fun. He curses more and actually still loses his temper with Rufus, haha. 
> 
> My thanks once more goes out to **Nemi_Almasy**!

Tseng stood off to the side, hands clasped behind his back as director Tuesti talked to Rufus.

It had been a little more than a month since Veld had given him his orders and for the first time in a long while, Rufus was free of injuries. Partly due to staying out of the President’s way but mostly due to Tseng stepping in when Rufus proved to be a danger to himself when father and son happened to be in the same room. Though even the President seemed to avoid an outright conflict after having nearly having had an eye taken out by Rufus.

During the last few weeks, Rufus had started to at least tolerate Tseng. He wouldn’t throw him out anymore or insult him quite as often. That went right out the window, of course, when Tseng prevented Rufus from seeking to stir up trouble with regards to his father.

The whole ordeal had become quite tiring, especially because Rufus was still suspicious of both Tseng and his intentions.

Which was why director Tuesti was here now.

The two stood too far away for Tseng to hear what they were discussing. The director laughed at a remark from Rufus and Tseng couldn’t quite ignore the small stab in his chest.

It was beyond foolish but he couldn’t help feeling a little… jealous at how well the director got along with Rufus. With him only being five years older the age gap wasn’t big enough to brush director Tuesti off as some sort of father figure for Rufus, and Tseng stupidly found himself wondering if… 

Why was he thinking about this? Director Tuesti was very helpful and kind and risking a lot, just like they all were. His misgivings were nothing short of petty. He felt ashamed. 

“Tseng.”

He looked up at the call from the director. “Sir?”

“Come over here for a second.”

Despite knowing better, he felt a little caught out on his embarrassing thoughts. Tseng stopped at a respectful distance, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

“I’ve heard Rufus has been giving you a bit of a hard time,” the director smiled sympathetically while Rufus scoffed.

“Sir, it’s no trouble-“

The director held up his hand. “No, I think Rufus needs to remember he has some manners. I know this isn’t an easy task that Veld has placed upon you, but both him and I are very pleased that our trust in you hasn’t been misplaced.”

Tseng couldn’t help feeling doubly bad for his thoughts on the director now that he was even intervening on his behalf. He really wasn’t used to praise and had no idea how to react. “I… thank you, sir.”

“Maybe if he hadn’t jumped at every command my father had given as eagerly-“

The director gave Rufus an admonishing glance. “And say, what should he have done? Disobeyed the President? I think you can imagine what that would have meant for him.”

Rufus opened his mouth, closed it again and scowled.

“I’m not condoning any of your father’s actions, you know that. But Tseng had been there on orders. More often than not, I’d say, he has intervened in your favour. It can’t have been easy to do so, while not antagonising the President at the same time.”

Tseng grew increasingly uncomfortable with the situation.

Turned back to Tseng, the director said, “I do feel that it’s necessary to express, how very grateful I am for what you’ve done so far. Veld had recommended you for the job. Not just this one, but before, because he told me you’re very level-headed and capable. I can’t say he was wrong. Not many people would’ve been able to shield Rufus the way you did without stepping on the President’s toes.”

Tseng didn’t know what to say. He had his eyes downcast. “Sir, I… appreciate your words but this really isn’t neces-“

“Not at all, I think it has been due for some time,” the director chuckled and, towards Rufus, said, “I’m not going to have you apologise. You’re not a child but I think the point has been made.”

Rufus surprisingly didn’t look angry or even annoyed, he shrugged. “Right. I get it.”

The director laughed. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Tseng returned to his position at the door for the remainder of the conversation between Rufus and the director, glad that he could get out of the spotlight. He was relieved to hear that Veld and the director thought he wasn’t messing this up, especially when Rufus’ behaviour made it hard to judge if they were getting anywhere. But outright praise had always been a little difficult for him to accept.

Once the director left, Rufus stood by the window front for quite some while with crossed arms and a frown tugging at his brows.

Tseng briefly wondered if maybe the director’s words had only worsened his situation. He watched a little warily when Rufus came over to him and now frowned at him instead of the cityscape.

“I don’t like to say it but maybe Reeve had a point. And I’m not above admitting a mistake… occasionally.”

Tseng kept his face carefully neutral. “Sir, there’s not need to-“

“Feel free to drop the ‘sir’.”

“It’s protocol-“

Rufus waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, I think I can override that. So stop it.”

“As you wish.”

“I’ve been a bit of an ass to you.”

Well, there was certainly nothing he could say to that statement either way.

Sensing Tseng’s dilemma, Rufus chuckled. “I’m not saying it wasn’t deserved but… I hadn’t thought about your situation in all of this. You certainly do have the ability to somehow not manage to piss my father off.”

“Doesn’t seem to work on the son though, s-“ Tseng cut himself off, swallowing the last syllable.

Rufus laughed. “Yeah, well, I can be quite determined.”

Considering how long Tseng had had to watch Rufus being miserable and injured, he didn’t know if there would come a time when he wouldn’t find himself staring at the other man’s laugh. Tseng averted his eyes, feeling guilty all over again.

Why did he have to be so beautiful?

“It’s quite the change to not be in constant pain,” Rufus said, thankfully oblivious to Tseng’s turmoil, and threw himself onto an armchair, legs dangling over the armrest.

This job was starting to get trying for all the wrong reasons.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Tseng grabbed Rufus and pulled him into another corridor, out of sight from the President and Heidegger who hadn’t noticed them yet.

Out of all options to keep Rufus from attacking his father, Tseng pushed him against the wall and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sir,” he hissed. “I can’t express enough, how extremely inadvisable this would be.”

Rufus struggled, glare venomous, but unable to fight Tseng off.

“Look, this is going to lead nowhere. If you-“ Tseng pulled back his hand with a curse when Rufus bit his finger. But before Rufus could escape, Tseng grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back. “Stop being such a damn-“ He cut himself off, struggling to pull Rufus away from the hallway.

They grappled for a moment, until Tseng got the upper hand yet again herded Rufus back to his apartment, albeit with some difficulty.

Slamming the door shut behind them, Tseng remained in front of it, not trusting Rufus to not make a run for it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” The words were out before he could stop himself. He was winded and frankly scared, because who knew what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to stop Rufus? And his finger fucking hurt.

Rufus turned back to him, nostrils flaring. “You just don’t get it!”

“Yeah, you know what, maybe I don’t! But seeing you ready to throw your life away at the drop of a hat because your father stands in some hallway with a smug smile on his face, I’m actually glad I don’t!”

“Him and Heidegger are going to-“

“And what if they are? Punching your father in the face, isn’t going to stop that! The satisfaction of getting a hit in is going to be very short-lived if it jeopardises everything Veld and Reeve have worked for so far.”

He knew that Rufus could see the sense in his words but he also knew that Rufus could be damn stubborn and wouldn’t admit that Tseng was right if his life depended on it.

“Sometimes some short-lived satisfaction is better than none at all!”

When Rufus approached him with a face like thunder, Tseng tensed. Not _again_.

_Just give it at damn rest._

But contrary to his expectation, Rufus didn’t attack him. Instead he shoved Tseng against the door and kissed him.  
Tseng froze, staring at Rufus in shock.

This couldn’t be happening. Before he knew what he was doing, he was responding to the kiss as Rufus pulled him closer by his shirt, their kiss turning bruising and desperate. Rufus opened his mouth, teeth sinking in Tseng’s lower lip who hissed but didn’t stop him.

When they grappled with each other this time, it was decidedly different to the many times that had come before. Rufus’ hand pressed against the nape of his neck, pulling at Tseng’s hair who sucked in a startled breath as a shiver ran down his spine.

Their tongues touched, lips pressing together even tighter and Tseng was clutching at Rufus’ waist, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. It felt better than it had any right to, better than he had dared to hope or been able to imagine.

_I’m in so much trouble._

When Tseng didn’t think he could breath anymore, he pulled back.

“Wh- what are you doing?” Tseng stuttered, heart plummeting straight down to his feet at the realisation of what had just happened.

Shit, he should’ve pushed Rufus away immediately.

What had he been thinking? Well… he hadn’t been, that was the problem.

A small smile tugged at Rufus’ lips.

Why was he so damn gorgeous. That mouth drove Tseng to distraction.

“Didn’t think this would go as well as it has.”

Rufus’ hands on his chest made getting his breathing back under control quite difficult, that and Rufus’ general proximity. He had a hard time not staring at the man’s mouth, that looked bruised for entirely different reasons this time around.

“Why did you…” Tseng swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

He really didn’t. Ever since director Tuesti’s helpful intervention, Rufus had been a lot less hostile towards him, they had even gotten along reasonably well from time to time, moments of what had just happened in the hallway excluded, of course. But…

“I think I’ve wanted to do that since you dragged me out of my father’s office the first time.”

Tseng stared.

How did Rufus look so attractive even when irritated? “No matter what I did, you just stood there and took it without so much as a disapproving glance. It just pissed me off so much.”

This was starting to make less sense by the second.

“So… you hate me and this is some kind of… revenge?”

Rufus raised his eyebrows. “What? No. Have you been listening?”

“I think so, yes.”

Rufus laughed. “Maybe I explained this a bit backwards.”

Tseng wondered if it would be rude to ask Rufus to take a step back because having him still pressed against his body, didn’t help his thought process.

“You know, I still hated it when you showed up because it always meant that I wouldn’t get to kill my father. It usually also meant that I wasn’t getting killed but I guess I didn’t see it that way at the time.” Rufus gave him a lopsided smile and sighed. “What I’m trying to say is… I am grateful, even though it doesn’t seem like it most of the time.”

Tseng tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Thanks. I… I’m glad I always got you out on time.”

He still didn’t really understand why Rufus had kissed him.

“You don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend, do you?”

“Oh, um… no, Turks don’t really…”

“The thought just occurred to me,” Rufus laughed and Tseng couldn’t help his stare. “You always seemed to be around, didn’t really think about whether you had a life outside of-“

“Well, I don’t… really.” He winced a little at his own words. It didn’t really bother him because he’d mostly known what he’d sign up for when joining the Turks.

“Are we going to resume where we left of?”

“I… work for you.”

Rufus shrugged. “So? Don’t put that you’re sleeping with me in your reports and you should be fine.”

He- _What_?

Tseng faltered visibly and Rufus chuckled.

“If you don’t want to, I’m sure I’ll survive the rejection.”

“No, I-“ He really needed to shut his mouth. This was so far from appropriate, it didn’t even bear thinking about, only he had been thinking about it for quite some time now. Tseng sighed, struggling with his indecision and the part of his brain that couldn’t believe that Rufus was interested in him?

Rufus smiled indulgently. “C’mon.” Grabbing Tseng by the front of his shirt, he pulled him along. “You can fret about the whys and wherefores later if you must.”

When Rufus stopped abruptly, Tseng barely managed not to bump into him.

“One warning.”

Tseng looked at Rufus’ suddenly serious expression.

“Never betray me.”

“I won’t.” Tseng said without even thinking about it. “You know that.”


End file.
